


Ash of Bones and Blood

by majestymax



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But I must write something, Dadza, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I really really don't like rereading my work, I wrote this in like three days, Implied/Referenced Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam is going through some tough times, She deserves the world and more, Sorry Not Sorry, The Best Girl Fran, What Did You Expect, but Sam was literally in an egg, he was a good man, it makes me sad, no beta we die like Mexican dream, only pain, so is everyone else, there really is no plot, this is a mess, wow go me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majestymax/pseuds/majestymax
Summary: It was a new era. The city had gone through its last war, and everyone who managed to survive lay scattered and helpless. Of the few, Ranboo was taken in by Phil and Techno. All is well, if you ignore the voices and the whispers and the taunts. Everything is fine for Ranboo...until a mysterious creature visits him by the shoreside, arising both memories and voices alike. For a time once promised to be peaceful, it looks as though Ranboo finally has to be the main character of his own story.Old friends! Old Foes! Tragedy and comfort. Dogs and turtles galore, missing crowns and sharp knives. Ranboo was never meant to get back into this mess...
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 5





	Ash of Bones and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> First fic! Finally! Hope you guys enjoy. :)

### A Bashful Time

### 

It was a bashful time. A tyrant had been caught and imprisoned, the stolen was returned, the wronged was righted. It was a bashful time of celebrations and happiness that swept the land for the first time in years. It was a time to rejoice, remember old friends, walk pets, cook new recipes. It was a time of respect and honor, remembering those who fought and those who helped. It was a time where a smile was worth more when it wasn't forced, wasn't ripped, wasn't stolen. And for many days and many nights, the bashful times continued. With the color returning to the trees, and the fish back to the waters, those bashful times - how pleasant they were - sodded off into ordinary times. The people went about their business, friends hugged goodbye, and all was well. 

Nothing about empty corridors in empty buildings.

Nothing about a mysterious entity hidden in the corner of a weaponry room. 

Nothing about an old traitor, one whose corpse was refusing to rot, plaguing his lost empire with taunts and whispers. 

There was no harm. No worry. No war. There was absolutely nothing to concern over in those bashful times. 

He awoke as per usual, something jumping on his cot and licking his face. On that morning, similar to any other, he opened his eyes to a drooling dog with happy eyes sprawled shamelessly on his body. It had been made clear, from the little time since he resided in that small house, that the dogs had the liberty of going anywhere they desired. And for some unfathomable reason, a whole lot of them decided to crowd about his bedroom. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, patting the dog off him. It leaped to the floor, tail wagging and getting in the way, greeting its many other brothers and sisters already waiting. It was hassle to get out of bed already, but it was nearly impossibly for Ranboo to travel to the bathroom, careful not to step on the tails of the pets. 

Ranboo, was his name. He had been living in the house he built too quickly (the snow had been horrible and he needed a place to stay) after being offered hospitality that was completely foreign to him. Even a ways away from the winter cabin keeping Techno and Phil did he feel like an intruder. And it didn't help with the dozens and dozens of Techno's dogs raiding every inch of the property during every minute of the day. They ran through his legs, licked his fingers, and tried to eat the toothpaste tipping on the edge of the sink. He never bothered to shoo them off anymore. The dogs were smart enough to know when he was truly annoyed. 

The snow that remained outside was nearly completely brown. What was once a marvel to awe at was now nothing but a slipping hazard. It didn't mean much to Ranboo either way, he didn't remember the fresh or muddy snow. 

One of the dogs had his boot and the other one he assumed he misplaced. Chances were he forgot where it was, but it was easier to say he misplaced it. His memory had been getting worse, and it became clear that no amount of appointments from Ponk (or his infinite abundance of potions and vials) could do anything to cure him. No amount of coos or reassuring from Puffy, or good wishes from Techno and Phil, could do anything to help him. He spent his days, surrounded by dogs in brown snow, forgetting who he was. 

_You'll never remember them, so don't bother trying._

The voices, oh the voices. The one thing he could never seem to forget. They were loud and insistent, and they were doing nothing but becoming louder and more insistent. They mocked him, taunted him, laughed at him, all behind the mask of false comfort. They pat his back before pushing him in the water. They polished his blade before stabbing his heart. The voices, all of them haunting his mind and poisoning his nightmares, killed him only after they helped him grow. He could not walk outside without their terrible whispers infesting his thoughts, tearing him apart with their horrible mockery. 

The winter cabin was just beyond the bend of the mountain, where the snow was a little whiter and the air was a little cooler. From the cabin, a path to the closest shore was paved with mounds of slush and weeds pushed aside. The chain of hills beyond the house opened to an area of turtle and dog kennels, and behind that was a flat surface of the mountain only few knew the secrets of. The cabin had a small trail of smoke from the chimney. No one was home. No one had been home for three nights. Blade and Phil were elsewhere, presumably looting some abandoned village or revisiting the Syndicate. Either way, Ranboo was not allowed to follow. He continued down the paved road, casting a quick but meaningless glance to the portal just on the top of the hill. He had not used that portal for a long time, exactly when he could not remember, but it was long enough for him to know he had no particular reason to go through it again. 

A woven basket waited for him on the sand. He threw it into the sea, catching the odors of fish and sea. The waves crashed and the salt split his skin. Contentment near the ocean has become an effective escape. The voices were drowned and reality dwindled. All that was left was the fishing basket and the catch of the day. The ocean, and the waters in general, was something he once avoided. Now he had no choice, left with nothing but the waves and the sky. He had to talk to someone. And yet, even among the roars of the waters and the hum of the breeze, something in the deep crevasses of his mind began to itch. It started small. Then it became louder. And louder. And louder. Until it was finally above the ocean and the morning tranquility, abusing Ranboo's peace and disrupting the early day.

_There is something behind you._

_There is someone behind you._

_Oh God, Ranboo. There is someone behind you._

### Shoreside Encounters

### 

The altercation was short. There were daggers and knives, tugging and pulling, grunts and pleads. It all happened quickly, and in an instant Ranboo found himself pinned to the ground, the tip of a flashing trident threating his throat. He vaguely recognized the trident - he had seen so many before. Who it belonged to was the real question. The person - or thing - handling the weapon was a stranger to Ranboo. It had the half face of a monster, the little remnants of human seemingly melting off and dissolving behind a copper mask. It wore a golden crown that blinded Ranboo's eyes against the sun, and its eyes were crazy with concern and fury. In an eerie sort of way, the monster who had approached him seemed to be human. But not entirely. It was not like Ranboo, but it wasn't like anyone else either. He averted his eyes away from the creature, who catiously rose to let him sit. 

" _Ranboo,_ " it said. The voice of something unidentifiable. What was this thing?

"I-" Ranboo started, helpless, "I don't know who you are."

" _I'm sorry for startling you. There is no reason to be afraid._ "

"Why can I understand you?"

" _We are both talking in our native tongue,_ " the creature said, " _You see, I was sent here for you. I was sent on a task to make sure you were okay._ "

"I am not," Ranboo rose to his feet, a terrible ache piercing his side. He struggled for a minute, the thing watching him as he stumbled about. He was beginning to panic, and as his body shook and his eyes slit to flash colors, the creature with the trident stepped forward to support him. Things were becoming dizzy and his vision was beginning to blur. 

" _I've been told to calm you from going into your enderwalk state,_ " it said, steading him on both feet, " _You are due to the SMP, Ranboo. There are people there who are worried for you._ "

"People? Who?"

The thing kept its hands on Ranboo, " _I was sent by Sam and Captain Puffy. There are with Tommy and Niki. They would like to see you, Ranboo. Things are happening over there._ "

Who were those people? Ranboo asked, "I hardly know those people. And you? Who are you?"

" _I am Sam Nook. I am just as much human as you are, so there is no reason to be afraid._ "

"Sam?" Ranboo pinched the bridge of his nose. Everything was beginning to hurt. "Sam? I remember Sam. Where is he?"

" _Ill. He has been ill for a few days now. Come with me and I will take you to him._ "

The thing, Sam Nook apparently, had let go of Ranboo and offered a hand. Ranboo rubbed his temple and shook his head. What the hell was thing all about?

"No no no," he said, moving back to the water to drag the basket from its submerged position, "I'm not allowed to go anywhere. I'll get lost."

" _I will be with you._ "

"I don't know you. I don't know what your intentions are. I don't know if you're going to toss me into the nearest lava pit. I can's risk it."

" _I am destined to fulfill my task, Ranboo. I am to bring you to the SMP. I only need your permission._ "

Ranboo looked around, "I can't leave the dogs."

" _They will be fine. TechnoBlade and Philza will return shortly._ "

"I can't leave without a notice. They won't trust me."

" _It is likely they already know._ "

Ranboo would not meet Sam Nook's eyes. He could not. 

"Will I see my friends?" He asked. 

" _I can assure you that._ "

"Will they help me?"

Sam Nook did not answer immediately. The copper mask expelled a small cloud of something black. " _I can only promise your safety._ "

Ranboo nodded, "Then I will go. Just - um - let me go get some stuff first, okay?"

" _Of course._ "

As Ranboo walked off, something itched in his head again. Something horrible and unwelcoming, leaking through his thoughts and plaguing his vision. He wasn't far from the shore, where Sam Nook waited, when he turned his head back around. 

_He could be one of us, Ranboo. He could be exactly like us and yet you're trusting him._

"Sam Nook?" he called, "You promise you are not another voice."

" _I'm sorry?_ "

"A voice in my head. You're not one of them are you?"

He blinked. Then he smiled. " _I am not._ "

### The Graveyard Palace

### 

The memories began to wash over him like the cold ocean, drowning him and forcing him under. The SMP had changed, but not in the way it usually did. When something happened it was always fixed. There was always shattered glass cleaned, or a building rebuilt, or blood washed from the concrete. It usually took no time at all for the SMP - or L'Manberg - or whatever they decided to call it now - to be refurnished. It always looked beautiful, no matter the circumstances. 

But now it was not.

It looked horrible. Nothing was fixed. Holes from explosions were left carelessly on the streets and the crumbled buildings were not touched. The warzone had remained as a warzone, and Ranboo hated to see it. He and Sam Nook navigated their way through the destruction, jumping over mounds of cement and clay, and ducking behind loose wires and poles. The buildings that stood looked nearly abandoned, and there was some type of weed growing on it. It all looked like a jungle. 

"Sam Nook," Ranboo said and pointed to the large weeds - or vines, rather - growing on the walls, "What is that?"

" _Vines. They've been infesting this place for awhile now._ "

"They're dangerous?"

" _Of course. Try not to take any deep breaths._ "

They walked on. The vines grew more persistent the further they went. A deep crimson color they were, like dripping blood or the heart of flames. They were large for vines and branched out from building to building like roots. They bulged like veins - almost as if they were living, watching them. Ranboo wasn't too fond of the vines, even from a distance. It seemed that Sam Nook felt any different. 

They approached the palace momentarily. God it looked horrible, so out of place among the graveyard of rubble and explosions. Some pieces were noticeably torn off, but it stood, with the flags of the once mighty L'Manberg torn and ripped. It no longer basked in the royal glory it once did. Now it was an unfortunate outlier in a sea of violent disarray. Sam Nook noticed that Ranboo stopped in his tracks and he gently nudged him to continue. 

" _Ignore everything else,_ " he insisted, " _The SMP has seen better days._ "

"Better days," Ranboo couldn't help but look around, "I don't remember such better days."

Sam Nook looked as though he was going to say something else. He might've had there not been an echoing shriek from the palace entrance that made both of them jump. 

"NOOK! Gods, we were about to send a search team after you!"

A woman Ranboo knew he knew (just didn't know at the moment) came stomping towards them both. She locked Sam Nook in an embrace, much to his nonchalant dismay, and murmured some various praises to him. When he was released, the woman moved to Ranboo. He was not trapped in a hug, but held by the shoulders and inspected with a scowl. 

"No cuts? No burns? No bruises?" she asked, frowning and turning him once over. 

"Uh, no ma'am."

"Jesus, Ranboo. Call me Puffy. You know me, remember?"

_She is an enemy. Everyone here is. Run while you still can. No! Kill her while she's close._

"A little," he shrugged. 

She gave him a blinding smile. Everything about her was blinding, really. So much so that small fragments of her resurfaced themselves to Ranboo. This was Captian Puffy, head knight to Eret. She cared for Ranboo the way she did for everyone else. Even surrounded by the aftermath of something terrible, and the voices, and the pain, and the wars, she still smiled at Ranboo like an old friend.

"No worries," she beamed, "We have plenty of time to catch up. Come on, we are all eager to see you."

_You follow her, you walk in that palace, and you're dead. They will kill you. They tried to kill me. Don't be stupid and listen._

"I'm sorry about not telling you in advance," Puffy said, leading Ranboo and Nook into the corridors of the castle, "Well, actually we did, but apparently they didn't get to you..."

As she talked, Ranboo wandered. He had been in the palace many times before, but there wasn't a single brick placed that he could remember. It was big. So impossibly big that there were walls and walls of empty space. Spider webs and clumps of dust were everywhere. It was nothing but an old warehouse, drained from the gold and diamonds it once flaunted. Down the dark corridors and through the cold halls, Puffy led Ranboo to an open courtyard of weeds and dirt. The plants that weren't immediately dead were dying. There was no redeemable life in that palace. 

"Fundy is here," Puffy told Ranboo, "I know that you two were close at one point, only I wanted to make sure you remembered."

_Fundy is a traitor._

"I wrote about it. I remember most of what happened."

_He picked a side! He went mad! He is going mad! Don't talk to him. Don't talk to him at all-_

"Ah, Ranboo!" a voice announced, "Haven't seen you in a minute. How are you my old friend?"

Fundy came up and clapped his shoulder. He looked the same as ever, untamed, wild, free. His eyes were a little more mischievous and his fur was a little more disorderly. But it was the Fundy Ranboo always knew. The Fundy that helped him, stayed with him, then left him. The Fundy he yelled at and the Fundy he was meaning to make amends to. Perhaps if things had gone differently, Ranboo would've been more excited to see him. 

_We are louder here, you know. The longer you stay, the more I will become. Get away from these people before they rot what I have repaired._

"Fundy," Ranboo smiled, "It's good to see you."

"See the enderman in you is still stubborn," he teased, bumping his shoulder, "still can't meet my eyes, huh?"

Ranboo looked at his feet, embarrassed, "I, uh, I try. Don't have my armor either."

"Yes I noticed that! Lucky for you it shouldn't rain this week. We'll let you know if anything else is spotty."

_He is lying. They are all lying. They are trying to sabotage you. They are trying to kill you._

Ranboo shut his eyes tight. His head was spinning, but he made no bother out of it. Instead, he allowed himself to be led to the rest of the courtyard, where the rest of the resistance were. It was a rocky group, obviously - many of them in the need of a serious bath. Tubbo was sitting with Tommy, both looked exhausted. Niki had burns along her cheeks and arms, and Eret did not have his crown. They were all a mess, those that remained. In the tangle of silent welcomes and sympathetic looks, Ranboo could not spot Sam. Nook lingered in the corridor, watching the buzz in the courtyard from a distance. But he was not Sam. 

"Sam," Ranboo asked between a hug from Punz, "Where is he?"

_Why would you ask such a thing? He is dead._

"Not dead yet," Puffy answered, "but he is weak."

_He is dead._

"Follow me and we can go see him."

_Don't bother going. Don't bother doing anything._

"Now, I must warn you, he hasn't been in the right state of mind for a couple days..."

_He is dead. He is dead._

"We've been easy on him...but he doesn't seem to understand most things..."

_Why are you following her? What do you think you'll see?_

"Of course, he's been doing better compared to last week..."

_You're getting closer. I hope you know what you're doing._

"He's in a lot of pain, so I need you to be as gentle as possible..."

_He's dead._

"Don't be scared kid, uh, he got the best of them all."

_He's dead._

"You can come out at any time, Ranboo. I'm not forcing anything on you..."

_He's dead._

"Alright now. Good luck."

_He's dying._

### Something to Fear

### 

"Ranboo," the body at the bed whispered hoarsely. 

It was a small room, one that had little space for anything but a medicine table and a low cot. Ponk had been working in that room, as seen with the empty bottles and bandages littered about the floor. There was an odor Ranboo couldn't immediately place, and upon looking at Sam, he was sure he didn't want to know where it was coming from. 

Sam looked horrible. Nearly identical to the alter ego, Sam Nook, he had a number of cuts and gashes bleeding through the layers of wraps. He had his copper mask on, only the paint was chipping and it didn't seem to be working as effectively. Behind it were patches of green skin, more so than the last time Ranboo had seen him. Any trace of human on his face was a single eye, desperately flashing a cold blue. In every sense, Sam was turning into a monster. 

"Ranboo," he repeated, his voice low and gentle, "I haven't seen you in awhile." He spoke in a familiar language, but to the relief of Ranboo. They did not have to share in native tongue there. 

"Sam..." Ranboo kneeled by the cot, "Sam - gods..."

The man smiled and looked to the ceiling, "I am fine. I will be fine."

"What happened? Gods Sam...you look..."

"The egg," Sam coughed, "the damn egg. I was trapped in it - took an eternity and a half to escape from it. Thank gods for Puffy and Tommy, I suppose."

He went on a fit, coughing the little air his mask allowed. Ranboo looked at his frail friend in horror. He had no crown, nor was his trident anywhere in the room. This was not the Sam that Ranboo had known for so long. 

_Your Sam is dead. He's been dead for a long time. You always knew that. You always knew that you couldn't save him._

"The egg?" Ranboo forced himself to remember. "I thought you hated the egg." Yes, that was it. He remembered writing it down - remembered the day he wrote it down. Sam was never fond of the egg. What prompted him to ever go near it? And why was he so sickly, more so than the others?

Sam smiled again, "You can never trust people too much, Ranboo. They always...come back to get you some way. I had it coming, I think. I had done so much to rid of things. I had done so much to try and help. Nothing ever changed."

"What are - what are you talking about?" Someone tricked him?

Sam coughed again, clutching at his side, "Don't panic just yet, Ranboo. It isn't good for you. I said I'm fine. I promise."

_He is not fine._

"Show me your wounds. I want to see what happened to you."

Sam laughed nervously, "Oh now you're taking care of me? After all we've been through?"

_He is not fine at all._

"Show me them, Sam."

"You won't like what I have to say about them. No one did," Sam frowned. 

Ranboo frowned back, "Show me them or I'll take every block on this building to the ocean."

Sam rolled to his side, carefully uncovering his body from the blanket, "You don't like the ocean."

"It's not as bad as it once was," Ranboo responded. His eyes widened when he saw the bandages on Sam. Stitches and blood lined his body, black, brown, every color. His skin was scaly and green as his ordinary self, only there were hints of crimson red. Vines...? Ranboo tried not to stare. He hated staring. But the injuries in front of him were more severe than any cut of a knife. These were deliberate, slow, and painful. Sam knew of the worry on Ranboo's face, even if he couldn't see it. Before the latter could muster a response, Sam was ready to cover himself again. 

"It uh," he started shyly, "I spent a long time in that egg..."

"Sam..." Ranboo pleaded. 

"I...became hungry. Mad with hunger."

"Sam, please no."

He shrugged distantly, "There was no other way, my friend. I was never meant to starve."

Ranboo dropped his head to the cot, "You were never meant to get hurt either. Gods, if only I had been there."

_Yes. This is your fault. This is your doing._

"It's not your fault."

_If only you had been there...Sam wouldn't be dying in front of you._

"Ranboo?"

_Perhaps they won't kill you, but I certainly will._

"Ranboo!"

Ranboo shot his head up. Sam had a terrified glimmer in his eyes, scanning Ranboo up and down. There was little he could do. The bandages, and the pain, prevented him from helping his friend the way he wanted to. Ranboo looked away, embarrassed at his outbreak. 

"You're changing, Ranboo," Sam said, his breathing hitched. 

Ranboo swallowed, "I know."

"You better keep your head up. I would...hate for anything to happen otherwise."

Ranboo blinked, the ache through his body roaring louder. 

"This is something to fear," his voice shook, "isn't it?"

Sam did not say anything for a long time. He didn't even look. He stared distantly to the wall in front of him, a splatter of blood the only thing worth while watching. 

"I think so," he finally whispered.

### No Different

### 

"Again."

A clack of a sword, a scream of pain, a body to the ground, a grunt of victory. 

"Again."

Another clack, another scream, another victory. 

"Again."

The winter cabin looked so different during the summer. Almost out of place, it looked homely - comfortable. The chimney spit clouds of smoke and dogs were scattered everywhere, most notably at Techno's feet. He was standing in front of the porch, watching the young boy struggle and learn. They had been doing this for days now, and Techno was pleased with the progress. Behind him, Phil closed the door to the house, leaning against the porch fence and grinning at Techno. 

"Think you're so smart, huh? Proving me that you're a good teacher. Ha!"

Techno smiled and shook his head, "He is doing very well."

"Yeah I can see that. Poor boy, you're working him to exhaustion."

"No worse than the way I learned."

They watched the boy clack swords with the wooden dummy, jumping and spinning across the dirt. The sword blared against the armor covered wood, making it rock here and there. The boy danced his dance of war, slicing bits and piercing pieces. His training was going exceptionally well, and when he fell to the ground, sweat dripping from his face, he heard the boom of Techno's voice. 

"Again."

And so the dance of strategy, the dance of terror, the dance of weapons, continued. Phil and his son watched in pleased delight.

"He's beginning to fight like you," Philza chuckled, "never thought anyone could manage that."

"I don't think anyone can. I'll let him rest after a few more rounds."

"Ah and you better hurry," Phil pointed to the distant horizon, "sun in beginning to set. Fighting out here is horrible. You, of all things, should know."

"I do."

The boy turned and twisted, avoiding the rocking dummy as it attacked at his sides. Techno watched him closely - at the way he dodged, at the way he leaped forward. He was beginning to see himself in those antics. He assumed Phil saw the same.

"Ranboo," Techno called, "Keep your elbow higher."

The boy, a younger Ranboo, nodded and went back to his work. 

"Lots of talent, I can see. Did we ever find out what the other half of him was?"

Techno shook his head and crossed his arms, "I've been looking for weeks. Thought it was ghast, but something tells me otherwise."

"And his enderman?"

"Fine if you consider the nightmares. And the blabbering. And the moving blocks to God knows where."

Phil fell silent. After watching Ranboo for a minute or two, he finally sighed. "It's getting worse, Techno. It's getting so much worse."

"I understand."

"You weren't so easy either, mind you. But he is made of a creature we know little about and another we know nothing of. I can't help but wonder of the wars in his head," Phil shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "I can't help but worry for him."

Techno thought for a minute, then nodded. "We aren't so different, you know. In fact, I think we're so much more alike than previously thought."

"How so?"

"He uh - tells me things. Tells me about voices. Voices in his head."

Phil cocked his head, "Voices? What kind of voices?"

"He doesn't know. And their quiet, so quiet sometimes he wonders if they're truly there. I think they scare him, Phil. I think he needs help."

"Then we'll get him help," Phil announced, "we had our fair share of voices. I suppose we can get some information on his."

They looked back at Ranboo, who was now smiling at his close victory. Something began to thump in the back of Techno's head - a slow but insistent knocking. 

"I suppose we can."

Phil smiled and clapped his son's back, "After all, Techno, he's no different from you right?" Then he returned to his house. 

Techno remained, lost in thought, the sun sinking below the clouds. Fair share of voices? His own voices still remained - much more silent than they once were, but just as aggressive. In that moment, they pulsed through his head like a second heartbeat. They corrupted his body, making him shiver and shake. When they got full control, they began their horrible whispers.

_Kill him._

_You are ready._

_Kill him._

_Blood for the Blood God._

And everything turned black. 

"Ranboo!"

Ranboo awoke in a startle, covered in sweat and alone in a pit of darkness. The bed under him squeaked and croaked at his sudden struggle, and the door in front of him vibrated to someone's obnoxious pounding.

"Ranboo!" A muffled voice demanded, "Are you awake now?"

"Yes. I uh-" he crawled from the bed, immediately falling to the floor, "What's the matter? Who's hurt?"

"No one. Breakfast is ready."

### Empty Head. Empty Cell

### 

Ranboo observed the rest of Sam's recovery. Up until the point he could stand on his own again, it wasn't clear of how frantic the situation in the SMP was. In fact, Ranboo really had no idea why he was there at all. 

"A bunch of crap happens everyday," Sam explained to him, "but this in particular is going to be a world of hell for us."

"I thought we already went through hell."

Sam threw back his head and laughed, "Sure have. Only this time, I don't think we'll be back from it."

Ranboo remembered of a build Sam was commissioned to do. It was some time before the last war, even before Tommy was exiled. But he was an incredible amount of money, and spent an incredible amount of time to build it. What it was exactly Ranboo couldn't figure out. The voices attempted to tell him once or twice, but he never listened. 

It had been two weeks since Ranboo arrived back to the SMP. He had been exchanging letters with Phil - with an occasional blurb in Techno's messy handwriting. They talked of the dogs, the ocean, the turtles back home. Phil told him of their adventures and whatever new ore they discovered. It was never anything beyond that - never anything that trigged Ranboo to do something irrational.

It was nice being with Sam again. He hadn't enderwalked for the entirety of two weeks, no matter how close he was to doing so sometimes. Sam's dog, Fran, helped him through much of it. For a few days, she and Ranboo were the only ones he managed to speak coherently to. Sam Nook helped as well, but kept to the wellbeing of Tommy - who was apparently distraught over some unidentifiable reason. Tubbo didn't talk much either. To the greatest extent, he told Ranboo of his bee collection and that was all. Ranboo only assumed it was for the better, but he couldn't help but wonder what secrets were being passed around without him. 

_They are all lying to you, Ranboo. You need to get out of there before they hurt you._

"See, something pretty big went down a couple days ago," Sam said, walking Ranboo through the destroyed SMP, "and I don't mean to alarm you, but I think we're all in grave danger."

"Then why are you smiling? Why does everyone seem so fine?"

Sam's hidden smile lingered, "I never said we were fine. We're just in shock - or something." His footing was messy, Ranboo could tell, but at least he was walking. Sam had mentioned of being light headed, but managed to convince Ponk and Puffy that he was well enough to be independent. So he led Ranboo through the city that once stood, walking to a destination unknown. 

"Where are we going?" Ranboo asked, "I'm not being kidnapped or anything?"

Black smoke spit from Sam's mask as he said "No, no that's not my job. I hope you remember that prison I was once commissioned to do."

"A little."

"And you remember what the purpose was?"

Ranboo nearly cut his palm on the jagged corner of a concrete slab that lay twisted and bent in every direction. "No. No I don't remember that."

"Right. I was paid full diamond stacks to build a prison - one that no one, not even the strongest of people, could escape from..."

"Yeah."

"And we - well, I - built it under the intentions that a certain person, one who was the largest threat, would be contained."

"And who was it?"

Sam stopped and looked back at Ranboo. He squinted against the glare of the sun. "That's the thing. I was never told who we were going to keep. I was told nothing about all of that," he turned back around and continued walking, "I uh, didn't mean for the prison to have any bad intentions. I trusted the man behind it. I thought I could trust him."

_Run now, Ranboo. He is feeding you nothing but lies._

"...The man behind it...?"

"Yeah, uh, he was the one who paid me. The one who oversaw everything. Looking back, I think that's where everything became so messed up. I shouldn't have been so tolerant."

_They nearly killed me, Ranboo, and they're going to do the same to you. Don't listen to this man. Everything he says isn't real. He isn't real._

Sam put a hand on Ranboo's shoulder. "I want to know if you're okay with this. People...don't have the best reactions to the prison."

"I'll be fine."

Sam looked unsure, a cloud - much darker now - emitting from his mask once more. "I don't want to take anything too far," he said, looking away, "You've been doing so well around all of us. I would hate for anything to happen now."

"Sam," Ranboo grabbed Sam's wrist and squeezed it gently, "I'll be fine. I promise."

_When are you ever?_

"See, you say that so confidently," Sam turned back around and guided Ranboo around a pit of road, "I don't think you understand what I'm about to tell you. I'm afraid it'll trigger something in you."

"Gods, Sam. You make it sound like we're talking about -" Ranboo's words trailed as the magnificent prison came into view. It looked as it always had, big and brooding. Inside and out, there was nothing happy about the building. It was built on roots of tyranny and falsehoods. Each block seemed to illuminate a different shade of the same secret, and it was overwhelming to even look at it. The moat around it was dry. Completely dry. Particles of war and conflict, metal and iron slabs, lay scattered in the dry pit. Sam looked uneasy, and the green flesh on his skin moved like water. He hated to see the prison just as much as Ranboo did. 

"I am talking about him, Ranboo," he murmured, "There was never a point where I was talking about anything else."

_Get away. Go away. I insist._

"Is he dead?" Ranboo asked, keeping his head tucked as to not let his emotions - or the voice - get the better of him. To his dismay, Sam did not answer. He only walked from where they stood, down to the moat with no water, and to the horrible gates of the horrible prison. 

Ranboo had written many entries about the interior of the prison. Many of those entries rested scribbled in ink or burned to ash. He remembered the faint echoes of the corridors, the calls from the cells, the noises off the walls. It was a labyrinth of everything unholy, pain and demise leaking from every room - chamber by chamber. There was no direction, no reason, no plot. It was all just obsidian layers and closed vaults. Mazes and mazes of emptiness; enough archives and blank pages to fuel an empire.

It was so empty. 

_You are not supposed to be in there. Get out. Get out, please._

Ranboo's head spun. It ached unlike anything before. It felt like he was being dragged across the floor, the voice yelling and crying for him. There were no taunts. Now it just pleaded. Pleaded with all the power it consumed within Ranboo. It made him sick. 

"Sam..." he croaked, clutching at his stomach. Sam was besides him in an instant. 

"Jesus, Ranboo, let's get out of here."

_Yes._

"No."

"No?"

Ranboo forced himself upright, "I need to see what you meant to show me. Let's just make this quick."

"I-"

"Quick," Ranboo hissed. 

They nearly sprinted down the end of the darkest, longest hall. It was one Ranboo had wished to never enter again. He had once, and he burned the pages detailing it. At that time, every precaution necessary was taken. But now, with the voice ripping through his head and Sam frantic, they did not bother to lay their weapons. Door after door they soared, desperately eager to leave. Eager to forget. And finally, after an eternity of vaults of lava and traps of webs and arrows, an open room lay empty in front of them. It was surrounded completely by flowing lava and walls of unbreakable obsidian. It was every cruelty in the world - every ping of pain and surge of panic. The voice in Ranboo's head roared. His eyes dilated and his hands shook. Sam held onto him, eyes sharp as a predator. 

A cell, swimming in the fleet of lava and doom, lay open and empty. 

He had escaped. 

_GET OUT. I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE. RUN AWAY. FORGET ABOUT THIS PLACE._

"...Ranboo..."

_WHAT HE SAYS IS A LIE. EVERYTHING IS A LIE. ALL OF THEM ARE LIARS. THREATS TO US, RANBOO. YOU ARE BETTER THAN THEM._

"...Ranboo, please don't look like that."

_WE CAN STILL WIN. WE CAN STILL SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. I JUST NEED YOU TO LISTEN TO ME._

"I need you to listen to me," Sam pleaded next to him, "Please just listen."

_I LEFT. I GOT OUT OF THAT HELL. YOU CAN TOO._

"He's gone," Ranboo whispered, "after all that...he's gone."

"Yes. He is."

Ranboo was silent for a beat, then he asked again, "Is he dead?"

"...Ranboo..."

"Is he dead, Sam?"

There was the sound of moving lava, slow but persistent. There was the sound of smoke from Sam's mask, and the low hiss of a monster deep in his chest. Ranboo's own monster screamed and kicked. Sam looked hurt, so unmistakably hurt that Ranboo wondered how he could ever help him out of this. Through the screams and the pain and the torture, Sam finally answered. 

"Dream is not dead."

### Gods of Bones and Blood

### 

Two figures, either real or unreal, spoke in the darkness.

_He knows._

"Hm."

_I did what I could, but he knows of everything._

"I see," a beat, "will he remember?"

_I'll be there if he does._

"Good. Good. And your wounds..."

_Healing. I have been through worse._

"Good," another beat, "Still feeling well I presume?"

_That and more._

"Hm....You know, for a time I doubted you. I thought you were soft enough to fail me. But over time, I've seen, you've proven me wrong," said with a sneer.

_I plan to stand behind you for as long as necessary._

"And for that you deserve my respect."

_I won't fail you...there will be a day when we rise again._

A laugh. "And I am counting that on you, my friend. Now go. Oversee our work."

_Yes, sir._

"Our time is near, Dream, I can promise you that," another laugh, "I, for one, can't wait what it feels like to be in charge again." Another laugh.

And then there was silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I really appreciate you guys for reading this - it took a lot from me to finally publish work (too self conscious lol). That being said, keep an eye out for anything else I conjure the energy to write. In the meantime, be sure to stay safe and stay warm <3


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